Fix Me
by Chexers
Summary: Fitz is taking his fathers "death" harder than what everyone thinks, Keefe wants to help. (Rated M for later chapters) (Fitz x Keefe, Feefe) (M/M) (Slight AU- age up, Keefe-16, Fitz-17) A/N: I REGRET NOTHING. Also no copyright intended. All rights belong to whoever they belong to, but not me.


Keefe took in a breath ladened with pain as he looked onto the brilliantly shining gates of the Vackers mansion. His hands shook, it would be the first time that the messy-haired boy would have talked to his friend since his father's death had been announced.

The gate opened without Keefe touching it, he must have been expected. The long wall through the gardens was torture; what would he say? Would Fitz be mad that he'd been spending so much time with Sophie?

Again, when he reached the front door, it opened seemingly on its own, but upon further inspection, Keefe saw a teary- eyed Bianna behind the door.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly, not knowing what to do.

"He hasn't spoken to anyone... He hasn't left his room... I-I..." Tears broke over the small girls eyes. Taking pity, Keefe pulled Bianna into his side. "He breaks things... Throws them... And he- he ends up hurting himself..." She whispered into his shirt.

"I'll..." It was hard to think of the right word. "I'll fix him." The smaller elf pulled away and tried to smile through the tears, but it ended up looking more like pity.

"Thank you." She said before Keefe patted her shoulder and headed down the familiar hall to the familiar door that was currently shut.

Taking a second to gather himself, Keefe raised his hand to the large door. His hand waivers slightly when he heard a somewhat choked noise that must have come from his friend. After re-building his courage, he rapped lightly on the door.

"Fitz..." He called after a few seconds. There was no reply. "Fitz... Are you okay?" What was he saying? Of course he wasn't okay, his father had just been announced dead. There was a shuffling, a small crash, a thud, then the door opened.

Keefe stared in shock at the gaunt, pale, ragged version of the prim and proper elf he knew. "You're here..." The whisper was almost in-audible, but the pain behind it hit Keefe like a brick wall. He could see Fitz's ribs through his thin silk tunic, his cotton pants hanging off bony hips.

"Yes..." Keefe fought back tears. He had to be strong for his friend, his unrelated brother, but it was hard when he felt the same pain, guilt, and heartbreak as Fitz. He didn't know whether to call Elwin or to give him a hug.

Fitz chose for him, wrapping his usually strong arms around Keefes waist. Keefe stood there, only for a second before wrapping his muscled arms around his best friend. Fitz's shoulders felt frail under Keefe. He became all too aware of the wetness of tears that stung his neck.

"It's okay, it'll be okay..." He thought before adding, "I'm here..." He wasn't normally taller than Fitz, but his friend's new stoup have him about an inch. Keefe tightened his grip before letting go and nodding to the familiar bedroom. Fitz didn't fully let go, keeping a hand gripped tight around Keefes strong forearm.

They stood, quietly, among the debris that was once Fitz's room. The bedside lamp was now shattered on the floor, the mirror was cracked and had what looked like fresh blood running from the origin, and papers were strewn over the usually meticulous room. The large crystal door swung closed behind them.

Keefe looked from the mirror to Fitz before lifting his hands to examine the bony knuckles. The skin that hung on his left hand was coated in a thin layer of dried blood.

"Fitz, what happened?" Keefe lifted Fitz's hand and examined the cuts, they had been cleaned and any shards of glass removed, but it still looked like it hurt. Fitz still held tightly to Keefes arm, and refuses to meet his eyes.

"Stay with me..." was the only answer that he received. Keefes heart lurched, he could feel the fear of abandonment clouding out the pain. /he must think that I think he's gone crazy.../ Keefe realized.

"I will." And with that, he pulled Fitz into his arms again, running his hand over his friends tangled black hair.

"I want to forget..." Was pulled out of the quiet sobs by Keefes ear. "I need to forget..." With that, Keefe found his own pent up tears falling down his face. He held tighter to his friend, who attempted to return the embrace.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Fitz... I wish I could help you forget..." Keefes voice sounded choked, even in his head. Fitz shook in Keefes strong embrace. Suddenly the dark haired boy fell to his knees, trying to hold in body-racking sobs. Keefe quickly knelt down next to him pulling Fitz's head against his chest, hesitating before finally resting his lips on his friends head.

Fitz listened to the constant, heavy thrusting of Keefes heart, clutching the man's shirt. He closed his eyes and slowly, the sobbing stopped, the tears ceased, and his breathing deepened.

"Hey... Fitz... Are you okay?" Keefe whispered into Fitz hair. His breath felt hot against Fitz's head, but it also seemed to have a calming effect on the distraught teen.

"I don't know." It seemed like an eternity before his friend replied, but when he did, Keefe breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't much of an answer but it was better than nothing.

After 10 minutes, Keefe swore that Fitz was asleep, but apparently not as when he tried to stand to lift the leith boy into his bed, he was grabbed by the waist.

"Please, don't leave." After a moment Fitz was scared that his best friend might reject him, but his fears were desalinated when Keefe knelt down and took Fitz's shoulders in his hands. Keefe stared into brilliant teal eyes, suddenly aware of their closeness.

"I won't leave." Keefe tried to smile and some-what succeeded. "You really should get some sleep though. Then some food." He helped Fitz up and aided him in staggering over to his canopy bed. Hoisting the frail man up was surprisingly easy. "Definitely some food..." He whispered.

Keefe sat on the side of the bed, fingers dancing through Fitz's hair until he was asleep. Looking down at his sleeping friend, Keefe ran his hand over Fitz's protruding ribs. He suddenly felt a pang of hurt, his own pain this time.

Not knowing that else to do, Keefe turned the lights off, staring out at the remaining light from the sun which had just dropped below the horizon. He then moved back to Fitz's bed, crawling in next to his friend, like they use to when they were kids. He pulled Fitz into his arms, again resting his lips atop the man's head, before falling asleep himself.

- End chapter 1 -


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